Trouble in the Forest Book One: A Cold Summer Night by Chelsea Quinn Yarbro Page A

the most ruthless of the lot, a great, tall, lean man all cloaked in dark green, so that the shadows and the leaves would hide him. In the battle his cloak was thrown off, and I saw that his hair was very light, like chalk. And he had teeth like a lion, with long fangs. You may not believe me, but it is the truth, as God will witness.”
    “I don’t question your answers,” said Sir Humphrey, though he did. “I will send for the farrier, to set your bones,” he went on more loudly to all the merchants.
    One of Sir Humphrey’s men-at-arms took that for an order and hurried off, heading in the direction of the garrison stables.
    “We walked all night, for we were afraid that if we stopped or slept those creatures would be upon us once more and we would not live to see the morning.” The merchant hefted his sword. “Had I not faced pirates before, I am certain I would have suffered as much as the rest of the party. As it is, I hope never to face those creatures of Sherwood again.”
    Sir Humphrey thought about this. “How many of you actually fell?”
    “Other than our men-at-arms, five,” the merchant reported. “And we lost a sixth on the way here in the night. He fell into a fast-running stream and we could not save him.”
    “Unfortunate,” said Sir Humphrey, starting to think. He realized he would have to arrange for these merchants to be escorted back to London as soon as possible. He could not have it said that the garrison of Nottingham could not keep a band of outlaws at bay. As to the far-fetched reports of the outlaws’ ferocity, well, anyone would say such a thing if attacked at sunset by determined killers. It was a hazard that any traveler had to accept on the Great North Road. The dangers were so well-known that many were used to the risks and regarded them with an air of tolerant amusement. He would have to make sure his men were instructed to make jests about the more extreme accounts, so that rumors would not start, let alone spread. It was bad enough that these merchants had been robbed, but it would not do to allow the people of Nottinghamshire to worry about wolfish ruffians attacking any traveler at will. He signaled to one of his nearest men-at-arms who was not busy with the merchants. “I will want you to carry a message to the Sheriff in a short while. He must be told about this.”
    “Of course,” said the man-at-arms. “I am at your service.”
    “When you report to him, tell him just as much as matters—that robbers set upon the merchants in their camp. Add nothing else. To report these fantastic accounts would serve no useful purpose, but to bring scrutiny from the Church.” He made his last words heavy with import. “That would not serve us a good turn.”
    “No, it would not,” said the man-at-arms readily enough, wanting no trouble for the garrison.
    “So. Have Waterman go to the Cistercian priory and ask the abbot if he will take in these men. Tell the monks that misfortune has befallen the travelers. The Cistercians are supposed to succor travelers, aren’t they? Let them take the merchants in, for charity—God knows they are in need of succor.” Sir Humphrey wanted to send the merchants away from the castle as soon as possible, so there would be no occasion for questions that might embarrass him and his men. It was bad enough that the merchants were attacked in the part of the forest that was supposed to be under his control; he had no intention of taking more blame upon himself than he had to.
    “That I will,” said the man-at-arms and turned on his heel to do Sir Humphrey’s bidding.
    Reassured, Sir Humphrey went to the side of another of the merchants and asked him to tell him about the attack, adding, “I find it hard to believe that these outlaws could overwhelm you as completely as I have heard. You are stout fellows. You had weapons, didn’t you? How many of them were there? You seem to be a prudent enough man. I should think with guards in your company,